Tadaima
by Dracoqueen22
Summary: A series of character ficlets that takes place at the future "end" of the Hueco Mundo Arc. Written for a drabble contest where the theme was "Home at Last". New: Renji, Kira, & Ikkaku. See each ficlet for specific warnings. No pairings.
1. Reunite

a/n: These short little series was written for a contest on Mediaminer. The theme was "Home at Last" and they had to be 500-word drabbles. I don't know if I won or not yet but I thought I would share them with you.

All of them take place at the "end" of the Hueco Mundo arc and so far, there are four in the series. There may be more.

Enjoy!

**Title: Reunite**

**Characters: Tatsuki, Orihime**

**Rating: K**

**Words: 500 exactly**

**Warning: None.**

**Description: Takes place at the "end" of the Hueco Mundo arc. There is always someone waiting.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach; Tite Kubo has that honor. I merely borrow and slash the hell out of his characters. **

* * *

When the rapping came around midnight, it startled Tatsuki from deep meditation. She stirred from her position on the floor, legs crossed, and blinked slowly.

The noise hadn't come from her door, as she would've expected, but rather from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing her wall, covered in posters of her favorite martial artists, and her window. The shades were currently drawn tightly.

Frowning, Tatsuki rose to her feet, a strange feeling in her belly. It wasn't discomforting or even worrisome. In fact, if she dared name it, the sensation was more like... relief. And happiness. As if there were recognition somewhere out there in night's darkness, hiding just behind the glass.

She padded quietly across the floor to the window, not for once thinking of the consequences of her actions. Perhaps she had imagined the noise. Maybe it was just a coincidence, an insect drawn by the lights of her room or a bird that had somehow lost its way. She was on the second floor, after all. But her curiosity refused to let her ignore it.

The curtains rattled as she moved them aside. Tatsuki peered into the night, the outside difficult to see thanks to the light shining behind her. The wind blew strongly, rattling the leaves of the tree just outside her bedroom. A branch struck against the window. Perhaps that had been it.

Yet, the feeling grew stronger in her belly.

She was about to turn away, considering herself foolish for even daring to hope for an instant. That perverted shopkeeper had said as much. He would tell her himself when the time came.

Then, a palm pressed to the glass, and Tatsuki's heart leapt in her chest. She jumped back from the window in surprise, nearly pulling off the curtains.

A face, so painfully familiar, pressed itself to the glass, a big smile stretching Orihime's lips. She looked tired and worn, dirt streaking her face and hair sticking in all directions. But she was there; she was alive.

"Tatsuki-chaaaan! I didn't wake you, did I?" Orihime asked, scooting forward on the branch and oblivious to the near heart attack she had almost caused.

Swallowing down tears that were threatening to boil over, Tatsuki wasted no time in throwing open the window. Orihime nearly tumbled in on top of her, and it was only her quick reflexes that saved them both from a collision with the floor. Tatsuki's hands settled on the other girl's shoulders, solid and real beneath her fingertips.

"You're back," she said and wondered why she suddenly sounded like a love struck fool.

Grey eyes met hers, pained in their knowledge but still very much Orihime. "Yep!" She swung her legs inside. "I'm finally home."

Feeling the prickle at the back of her eyes, Tatsuki's fingers tightened in their hold as she smiled brightly for the first time in weeks. "Welcome back."

Then, Orihime was hugging her. And for once, it didn't bother Tatsuki at all.

Not one bit.

* * *

a/n: Thanks for reading! I look forward to your comments!

* * *


	2. Return

**Title: Return**

**Characters: Ichigo**

**Rating: K**

**Warning: None**

**Words: 500 exactly**

**Description: All that matters in the end. Takes place after the "end" of the Hueco Munco Arc. **

**Disclaimer: I own not Bleach; Tite Kubo does. I'm merely borrowing.**

* * *

He was tired and bloody, everything aching. He felt stretched thin and drawn tight, memories playing over and over. But he wasn't about to stop moving. Not when he was so close.

Urahara-san had offered to give him a room for the night after the worst of his wounds had been patched. Ichigo had turned him down. He didn't want to spend another night away from his own room and his own bed, even with its Quincy sheets.

He had done what he needed to do, rescuing Orihime and defeating the enemy. Or well enough of them at any rate. The war would still continue; he hadn't been able to do anything about that. At least, not for a few more hours. He wanted rest.

Ossan was tired. Shirosaki was weary. His zanpakutou was a heavy, leaden weight on his back, proving the fatigue of his entire soul.

Ichigo flitted across Karakura using shunpo and the last of his energy. The town was quiet and still beneath him, not even a Hollow present. Safe for another day. Aizen's plans had been foiled, but Ichigo was certain the man would be back again with something even more devious.

There was so much that could have gone wrong, so many people he could have lost. They had faced death in that place, on those empty white sands and under that black sky with its lone moon. Against Arrancar and Espada whose strength seemed absurd.

He tried not to dwell on it, but the calluses on his hands, the ache in his muscles, were all the reminder he needed. War was such a terrible, ugly thing.

Ichigo slowed his steps, his destination swiftly approaching. All of the lights were off, his house quiet and serene. It was still standing, and he felt a surge of relief for that.

But his window was open, Quincy curtains waving in the breeze. As if someone knew to leave it that way for him.

He landed deftly on the windowsill, catching sight of Kon curled up on his bed. The mod soul in his body hadn't even stirred. No surprise there.

Ichigo crept inside, landing soundlessly on his floor. Everything familiar rose up to greet him. The faint scent of last night's dinner. His dad's outrageous cologne and snores from the next room. Even Yuzu and Karin's murmuring was indistinct, both of them talking in their sleep.

It made his heart ache somehow.

He rifled around in his room, locating the stuffed lion. Within moments, Kon was back in it, and he was slipping into his own body. There were lingering traces of discomfort; Kon always did make his own niche.

The mod-soul didn't fuss. Just looked at him with those knowing black eyes. He didn't ask. He merely flopped down, on Ichigo's stomach no less, and returned to sleep. Ichigo didn't mind, not when his bed felt so comfortable and he was warm and alive.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Home at last.

* * *


	3. Redeem

**Title: Redeem**

**Characters: Rukia, Byakuya**

**Rating: K**

**Warning: Spoilers for the Hueco Mundo Arc**

**Words: 500 exactly**

**Description: Stunted forward motion and baby steps define them, but it is progress, nonetheless. **

* * *

The words were on the tip of her tongue, and she wanted to say them. Having followed him back in complete silence, watching the familiar insignia of his division all tattered and cut, they had been on the edge of her lips.

"Nii-sama... I--"

"Get cleaned up," Byakuya inserted shortly, raking his gaze over her tattered robes, blood caked on the black fabric. "I will have something prepared for you."

Rukia blinked. She knew better than to argue, but she still wanted to say something. Anything. Thank him maybe. But she also knew that this was Kuchiki Byakuya. Gratitude was probably above his pride as a noble.

So she merely nodded and gave a light bow, shuffling to do as he had said. Every movement was slow and cautious. She had been healed but could still feel the lingering pains of her wounds. Rukia knew she was filthy, could feel the sand and blood and Espada goop clinging.

She never would have expected Byakuya to save her.

It wasn't that she believed he would leave her to die; they had passed that hurdle. But Rukia never would have suspected her brother to enter Las Noches. To be honest, the small aid he had given her and Renji, though it was by pretend ignorance, was just as surprising.

Their relationship had been slowly growing since the betrayal, stuttering and creaking along like a machine that hadn't been oiled in centuries and was finally being put back into use. He was socially inept, and she was still cowering behind formality, afraid to speak wrongly and ruin everything.

She wanted so desperately for him to be her family, to see him as the brother he was supposed to be. And Rukia believed that he wanted the same. Otherwise, he wouldn't have bothered to help her.

Cloth whispered behind her, and she heard the faintest sound of a footstep.

"Rukia."

Pausing, she turned. "Yes, nii-sama?"

He was only half-facing her. Emotions flickered across his eyes, always the most expressive part of him.

"You did well," he began softly, as if carefully selecting his words. "Defeating the ninth Espada is no small accomplishment."

And just the way he said it, Rukia wholly believed that he knew just whose face Aaroniero had taken. Why it had been so hard for her.

She felt tears burn the back of her eyes, but she swallowed them down. "Thank you."

Byakuya wasn't yet finished. "Be sure to rest," he added awkwardly. "Your injury was nearly fatal."

"I... thank you. I will."

He turned then, heading down the hallway with his scarf fluttering behind him.

It wasn't the most heartwarming of speeches, but Rukia understood perfectly. He had been worried about her. He was glad she was now safe at home. In those few words, he had expressed himself perfectly.

Smiling, Rukia headed off to the bath, her heart somehow lighter. The manor halls suddenly felt a lot less foreboding.

"Welcome home, Rukia," they seemed to say. "Welcome home."

* * *

a/n: There's at least one more in the series. I hope you enjoyed. Thanks!


	4. Render

**Title: Render  
**

**Pairings/Characters: Uryuu and Chad**

**Ratings: K**

**Words: 500 exactly**

**Warning: None  
**

**Description: It's all where and what you make it to be.**

* * *

Everyone rushed to go home. Even Kurosaki who was probably still bleeding and in incredible pain. Orihime left the moment she finished healing everyone. The Shinigami returned to Soul Society.

No one wanted to stick around.

No one except himself.

The battles were over; he'd somehow survived. Inoue-san was safe and sound. No one died, and well, he was feeling pretty tired. His wounds, while healed, hadn't forgotten their pain. Nor could he forget the embarrassment of having to be saved by Kurotsuchi.

He should be going home, too. But there was nothing there for him.

An empty apartment, cold and lifeless, no one tending it in his absence. There was a small flat. No fresh food in the fridge. No one to welcome him or look at his wounds. No one waiting or wondering if he was safe.

Everyone had gone home, but Uryuu lingered, standing in front of Urahara's shop and gazing at the sky. What remained of his Quincy outfit was folded in his arms, and he wore a borrowed kimono. It was too large and the obi had been looped around him twice, but it was suitable enough for the walk.

He didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to stay either. He couldn't show weakness to these Shinigami. He still had his Quincy pride. Even if those freaks Kurotsuchi and Szayel had stomped it into ashes.

"Ishida?"

At the sound of the familiar voice, Uryuu turned to find Sado looking at him from the doorway of the shoten. He, too, wore a borrowed kimono, only his fit better, likely because it belonged to Tessai.

"Sado?" Uryuu pushed up his glasses with one finger. "I thought you left already."

He shook his head as he stepped out, the door shutting behind him. "Why are you still here?"

"I was just leaving," Uryuu said, glad the dark hid his flush. He didn't want anyone to see his weakness.

"Oh." There was a pause. "Going home?"

"Of course," Uryuu responded, taking a step. "Where else would I..." He trailed off, a sudden realization striking him.

Sado didn't want to go home, either. He, too, lived in an empty, cold apartment where no one was waiting for him. He had no family. His best friend was Ichigo. And while there were others he knew, they weren't aware enough to worry.

His home was as unappealing as the Quincy's home. And Uryuu had nearly forgotten that in his own loneliness.

Uryuu turned around, facing Sado directly, and pushed up his glasses again. "Sado?"

The larger man blinked at him. It was Sado-speak for continue. Uryuu was slowly learning all of these nuances.

The Quincy squared his shoulders. "Would you like to come home with me?"

There was a moment of silence before Sado stepped alongside him. "I'll buy dinner."

It was agreement if Uryuu ever heard one, even in Sado-speak, and he allowed himself a faint smile.

Coming home wouldn't be so bad after all.

* * *

a/n: There may or may not be more in the series. I'm contemplating one for Renji at this point. Thanks for reading!

* * *


	5. Reflect

**Title: Reflect**

**Characters: Renji, Ikkaku, Kira**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: Language**

**Words: Far more than I'm supposed to have (811)**

**Description: Conceding defeat and accepting defeat are two entirely different things.**

* * *

Renji was tired.

Getting his ass kicked by that pink-haired floozy was not really something he had been expecting or that he planned to ever repeat. Then again, he should have known not to underestimate someone in pink. Yachiru was the perfect example of that.

His body more than ached. It felt as if it had been beaten, stabbed, slashed, ripped, stomped on, and then set on fire for good measure. Which was probably what had happened, he couldn't be sure. A lot of the fight he couldn't remember, other than the painfully embarrassing part about having to be saved by Kurotsuchi.

Ikkaku was never going to let him live it down.

He trudged him with a sort of weary stumble, trying to ignore the tattered nature of his clothing and the ache of wounds that were healed but still throbbed beneath the surface. Orihime was back home, and what had he done? Just about nothing useful. The only fight he had managed to find had ended with him flat on his back, bleeding profusely.

As usual.

He would have to train harder. Renji knew this. He couldn't beat his captain the way he was, not even get close. He had only managed to get the man to one knee, while Ichigo had done so much more. It seemed he was always going to be a few steps behind the prodigy, who always saved the girl, always defeated his opponents and always came out the hero. Even if he didn't want to be.

It wasn't fair, and Renji often wondered when someone decided that nothing in his life could be.

With a sigh, Renji reached up and ran a hand through his hair, wincing at the dried blood caked in it. He would need a bath soon but not before stopping by his home for a change of clothes. He thought about the others, who they would be coming home to. Friends and family and loved ones. Thought about how much he wished he had been able to do more than come out the loser again.

Life really sucked sometimes.

He arrived home not long after, sliding the door open with a weary grunt. It was dark inside as he had expected since he hadn't been there in some time. He hadn't even had time to stop by after Kuchiki-taichou and Zaraki-taichou had brought them back from Karakura.

He tugged Zabimaru from the ruins of his obi and set him against the wall near the door. He was already reaching for the tattered remains of his shihakushou, in the midst of locating his yukata to change into, when the sound of knocking filtered through to his thoughts. He frowned, not really expecting any visitors.

The redhead turned back towards the door and slid it open.

"Renji!"

"Abarai-kun!"

Before he knew it, he was being swept into a bear-hug by Ikkaku and greeted by Kira. Renji blinked, drawing back as Ikkaku patted him on the head, paying no mind to the grit and grime.

"Guys?" he questioned, secondly noticing the sake jug in Ikkaku's hand. "What're ya doing here?"

Kira smiled at him. "We heard you were back, and Ikkaku figured you'd want a drink."

Ikkaku nodded, pushing his way inside without so much as an invitation. "Hisagi an' Tetsuzaemon said they'd be by later. Yumi's on the way now."

Renji could only stare in slack jaw surprise. He had expected to spend the entire evening alone, to trudge into work the next day. He watched mutely as Kira lowered himself slowly to the floor, and Ikkaku plopped down gracelessly, already popping open the jug.

"Tell me about them Espada," Ikkaku began. "Man, it sucks. I wanted ta fight one."

Renji shook his head, joining them on the floor and reaching for the jug. He remembered his own fight, recalled pathetically losing. "It's not as fun as ya think," he put in bitterly, downing a swig.

His senpai watched him for several long moments. "Y'know, Renji, taichou told me something once. If ya die, ya can't fight again. So losin's not that bad." He grinned. "I added that last part."

Renji snorted. He understood what Ikkaku meant, but still…

"Anyway," Kira interrupted cheerily. "We're all alive. Orihime-san is safe, and there's still a war to be fought. No need to be depressed so soon."

" 'xactly," Ikkaku agreed with a firm nod. "Let's drink."

Renji couldn't agree more.

Maybe Ikkaku was right; maybe Kira was. Maybe all Renji needed to do was train just a bit harder.

And maybe he would be able to beat Kuchiki-taichou, after all.

He supposed a guy could dream.

--

a/n: And thus this is the last in the series. It sort of... trickles off on the end. I'm not fond of the ending at all. But the build-up/set-up I like. Any thoughts?

Thanks for reading!


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